Station / Estación # 22: Moctezuma

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Caminando alrededor de Moctezuma me intrigaron las historias de muchas de las cosas de que estaba tomando fotos.  Tal vez fue la estación, sus conotaciones historicas rezagadas en mi mente.

Una botella vacia del vodka mexicano ‘Oso Negro’ desechado en el hueco de un poste:

Quién lo tomó? Qué tal su noche (o día)?

Una sofa abandonada:

Cuántas noches se dormía ahi?

El coche destartalado con imagen del Joker:

Dónde se fue el dueño el primer día con la pintura nueva?

Hay tantas historias del mundo, tantos cuentitos.

Como dijo Kerouac:

‘Es como las fantasmas de todos los mosquitos que alguna vez vivieron, la densidad de la historia del mundo, todo sería suficiente para inundar el pacifico tantas veces como podrias quitar un grano de arena de su fondo arenisco.’


Bueno, alrededor de Moctezuma, parece que hay tiempo para reflexionar sobre todo eso.  Haciendo cola por el bus o sentado pensativo en el parque.

O, si quieres, podrías pararte para tomar un pulque y compartir historias en la pulquería de Moctezuma ‘La Bella Grande’.  Nada dice tradición y historia como un buen pulque.  Apostaría que hasta Moctezuma tomó unos!  Pero, si llevas a tu perro no olvides de, bueno, cuida a tu perro!

Wandering around Moctezuma I became intrigued wondering about the histories of many of the things that I was photographing.  Maybe it was the name of the station, it’s historical connotations lingering in the mind.

An empty bottle of Mexican ‘Oso Negro’ (Black Bear) vodka discarded in the hollow of a light pole: 

Who drank it?  How was his/her/their night (or day)?

An abandoned couch:

How many nights were slept on it?  How loved was it in its halcyon days?

The dilapidated car with a joker motif:

Where did the owner go on the very first day with the new paintwork?  How many heads did it turn?

There are so many histories of the world, so many little stories.  As Kerouac said ‘It’s like the ghosts of all the mosquitoes that ever lived, the density of the story of the world all of it would be enough to drown the Pacific as many times as you could remove a grain of sand from its sandy bed’


Well, around Moctezuma there seems to be time to ponder it all whether your queuing for a bus or sitting pensive in a park.

Or, if you fancy, you could stop in for a pulque and share some stories at Moctezuma’s pulqueria ‘La Bella Grande’.  Nothing says tradition and history more than a good pulque.  I’d wager Moctezuma quaffed a few himself.  If you take your dog to Moctezuma don’t forget to pick up after him though.



  1. I am enjoying every one of your entries. I will be in Mexico City for a week in late March … guess I’ll have to take some extra time on the metro.

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